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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714047">Nightfall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggfoye/pseuds/ggfoye'>ggfoye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Feysand One-Shots (Fluff, Smut, Angst) [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Redemption, Sickfic, Tamlin The Tool</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:41:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggfoye/pseuds/ggfoye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamlin’s heart stopped when he saw the winged female who fell from the skies right into the heart of his territory.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Tamlin (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Feysand One-Shots (Fluff, Smut, Angst) [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>please note that while this was posted to my feysand collection, this story is not feysand-centric, but rather feysand-kid centric lol. i don't usually write tamlin-centric stories because personally i think he's a worthless piece of shit and a waste of oxygen, but a follower here on Ao3 requested me to do a feysand kid + tamlin one-shot and i obliged. i tried to be as imparcial as possible and not be too forward or obvious about the path that the story could possibly take after the end so each reader could decide for themselves, leaving an open ending which you could interprete however you'd like. that's it. regardless of your opinion about him, i hope you enjoy this story. i honestly had fun trying to put myself in his shoes and write this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sentries were riding their horses, speeding up as they monitored the constructions along the borders, outlining the frontiers of the territory.Tamlin stood far behind, almost into the forest, overseeing the work. If all went according to plan, it would all be done by Nynsar—the hedges that delimited and separated the Spring Court from the human lands.</p><p>In his animal form, his senses were heightened, so he was used to the enhanced sounds, smells and instincts. But it still had been a surprise to him when he heard a shriek coming from the forest behind him—followed by the sound of cracking branches and a loud thump.</p><p>Tamlin quickly ran over to find the source and reason for the commotion. A few minutes running was all it took for him to come across the creature that had emitted such high-pitched screams.</p><p>A teenager. If her size was any indication.</p><p>He quickly shapeshifted back into his fae form so as to not alarm her. The girl, who was lying on the ground facing the other direction, was entangled in leaf branches and breathed heavily. Only when he came closer he noticed it—the wings. Those brown, uncanny, nearing terrifying wings he recognized so well.</p><p>An illyrian.</p><p>Tamlin straightened up his spine, but did not turn back into the wolf.</p><p>The girl panted, almost whimpering, fighting to get rid of the arrows pinned to the soft membranes of her wings. But it was clear to see that she was getting weaker by the second. When she finally turned around, sensing his presence, there was nothing in the world that could've prepared him for the sight.</p><p>His heart stopped.</p><p>It was Feyre. Only—only it wasn't. It might've been her, could've been her if it wasn't... if it wasn't for the unmistakably distinguishable eyes. Violet, they were. And widened. Scared even, as she realized who he was.</p><p>Her resemblance to her mother was so striking and disquieting that he was left paralyzed for a second. He had never met her. Heard of her, of course. Of her birth, over a decade ago. And that was it.</p><p>The Night Court had been extremely discreet about their heirs. And justifiably so, seeing how so many enemies and assassins lurked around them, looking to hunt them down.</p><p>The High Lord and High Lady announced to the other courts the birth of their firstborn, a little over two decades ago. And then the birth of their second child, a girl—Nisha, if he wasn't mistaken. Daughter of Night.</p><p>That was all the information shared.</p><p>The children were expected to be unearthly powerful, and it always remained a mystery as to why they hadn't yet been formally introduced—or flaunted—to all of Prythian.</p><p>However, looking at that girl... the face so similar to the one he used to love, he understood. The faebane in her system masked her magic, but even so, her presence alone was overwhelming. Her power—dark and dense and <em>ancient—</em>filled his lungs with each breath.</p><p>She would’ve been a target ever since her cradle days.</p><p>However, her face was tender, fresh; her eyes—terrified and fierce and remarkably determined for someone who was injured and cornered—were young.</p><p>The vulnerability in them as they flickered faintly affected Tamlin somehow. Like watching a mighty lion draw its last breath after getting shot by an ordinary hunter.</p><p>He took one step closer to reach out to her, but something caught his attention, and he instinctively turned his head to the woods. Whoever had shot her down was still there—and probably on the run now that they noticed <em>who</em> exactly had arrived first to claim their valuable prey.</p><p>Tamlin shot one last glance at her, bringing his index finger to his mouth to warn her to be quiet, and sprinted away into the woods.</p><p> </p><p>———</p><p> </p><p>Nisha tried.</p><p>She tried really hard to fight the faebane, but it was too much. Too heavy inside her veins.</p><p>When she saw that first arrow, she'd tried to winnow. But she was half a second late, and as soon as that concentrated dose of poison entered her, she could feel her magic being drained—or better, being trapped, chained to her physical body as an anchor pulling her down, pinning her spine down towards the center of the earth.</p><p>She fell, hitting the top of the trees and finally crashing on the grass. The pain in her wings was overwhelming, and the twinges were spreading out to her whole body, becoming almost unbearable.</p><p>And when Nisha found the High Lord of the Spring Court standing in front of her, her blood froze in her veins, and she could feel it being drained from her face.</p><p>She’d never seen him, but his posture was courtly and his appearance was unique enough for her to instantly know that it was, indeed, Tamlin.</p><p>And the stories she’d heard—how he’d mistreated her mother, how he was to blame for her aunts’ immortality, how he and his family had <em>butchered</em> her father’s mother and sister. How he absolutely hated the Night Court.</p><p>And so Nisha knew she was doomed.</p><p>But the way he’d looked at her—surprised. Perplexed. Confused, even. She could tell he knew who she was, but still had played no part in the attack.</p><p>And so she was left even more startled when he motioned for her to keep quiet and ran into the woods.</p><p>Despite the adrenaline and her efforts to stay alert, the screams were the last thing she heard before tumbling into unconsciousness.</p><p>Then strong arms slid under her, taking her somewhere inside, where the walls and floor left the atmosphere cool and chilly and the slightest sounds produced echo.</p><p>And so Tamlin wittingly carried the Daughter of Night into the heart of his home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Nisha opened her eyes, the sky was dark and the moonlight pried from under the curtains. There were fae lights dimly illuminating the room.</p><p>She turned on the giant, silken mattress, feeling every nerve in her body complain at the movement. She panted, groaning at the staggering pain. Her first instinct was to check on her wings, but as she looked over her shoulder to see it, all her muscles tensed as she came upon the figure that watched her from the corner of the room.</p><p>His bright green eyes focused on her.</p><p>He sat on the cushioned armchair with a book in hand, seeming at ease, but moving in a wary manner as he set it down on the little table beside him.</p><p>Nisha gathered every last drop of energy she had in her—which wasn't much—and tried to winnow away. Nothing happened.</p><p>Tamlin must have sensed her attempt, because he slowly rose to his feet and took a careful step forward. Nisha recoiled a bit, instantly letting out an unwilling whimper as she felt a sharp twinge in her back.</p><p>"Don't move," he said quietly. "Your wings were in pretty bad shape. I closed the wounds, but the healer had to immobilize them so they can heal properly."</p><p>Tamlin must have smelled her fear, because then he added, sternly but softly, "You need not be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. No one in this court will."</p><p>Nisha gulped, digging her nails into the palms of her hands to force herself to stand her ground.</p><p>"Then why did you shoot me down?", she dared ask under her breath.</p><p>Nisha reeked of fear, but still her tone was aloof. The corner of Tamlin's lips involuntarily twitched up a bit as he noticed the resemblance.</p><p>"I'm not the one who attacked you," he said. "But I think you already know that."</p><p>She'd seen him chase after the actual attackers, but still, she couldn't fully trust him. Not with his and her family's history.</p><p>"Don't worry. They were merely bounty hunters. And they won't be troubling you again."</p><p>Something in his voice told her they wouldn't be troubling much anyone else again. Ever.</p><p>Silence followed as she stared at him, still analyzing every escape route and exit she could use to get the hell out of there.</p><p>"You're not a prisoner here. You’re free to leave if you'd like," he muttered, walking over to the golden bench at the foot of the bed and sitting down, yet keeping his distance. "But your wings are not sound enough to fly yet, and the healer advised against winnowing anywhere, including with someone else. The faebane has left you weak. Rest some time. Gather your strength. I'll see what I can do in the morning."</p><p>Tamlin stood up and started heading calmly to the door, when Nisha spoke, less skeptical, but still guarded, "Why?"</p><p>He stopped on his tracks, hand on the doorknob, and took a couple seconds before turning around to look at her. "Why were you flying above my lands?", he deflected.</p><p>Nisha tensed, even though his tone was curious, not accusatory. "I was going to the human lands."</p><p>"Couldn't you winnow there?", he asked.</p><p>"Yes. But I rather enjoy flying."</p><p>Tamlin studied her. Her clammy skin, pale lips, hair forming a halo wildly around her lovely face. So undeniably and painfully vulnerable. The poison had visibly taken its toll on her. Still, her eyes were daring—relentless. Those violet orbs he'd grown to hate so ardently, her father's mark on her, one of the only evident physical traits she'd inherited from him, had never reminded him more of Feyre than in that moment.</p><p>Maybe that's why he could not help himself as he told her, seeming absentminded, "This used to be your mother's bedroom."</p><p>And then left.</p><p> </p><p>———</p><p> </p><p>The following morning, Nisha woke up feeling a bit better. There was still a lingering, annoying strain on her magic. Her well of power, usually infinite and almost overbearing for her to carry, wasn't shallow. It just simply wasn't there.</p><p>She tried to sit up, and although she managed to do it, the effort alone was enough to send her toppling down into the pillow again, dizzy and sore.</p><p>Alone in the partially sunlit room, she then took the time to take a better look around.</p><p>The bedroom was large, the walls were pale green, sketching with patterns of gold. Spring Court colors. Nisha could not imagine, for the life of her, her mother in that place. The life she must have had. She could not picture her reading by the fireplace, or looking through the window, or lying in the bed she now lay.</p><p>Another world that was, she thought.</p><p>Although it was all well and thoroughly clean, she could tell it hadn't been occupied in a long time. Ever since she'd left, she could bet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following day passed in a blur as healer after healer checked in on Nisha every few hours. They gave her plenty of tonics for her pain, which left her sleepy for most of the time.</p><p>A maiden brought her food a couple times a day. They weren't as tasty and well-spiced as the Night Court's cuisine, but they did the trick.</p><p>Tamlin never came back around.</p><p>Nisha felt a bit more relaxed, even though she was technically stuck in her family's enemy's court for the time being. But she had nothing to complain about the way she was being treated. The servants were nothing but delightfully polite.</p><p>A couple days passed, and she could feel herself getting stronger by the second. Her magic was gradually returning to her. Her wings, on the other hand, were still sore and wounded, healing too slowly for her likes. As much as she wanted to get out of there, she was too scared to winnow and end up compromising her still sensitive membranes.</p><p>And so she spent her time observing the Spring Court life through her balcony, watching the faeries coming in and out of the mansion, feeling the cool breeze that blew on the flowers and spread their scent until they reached her.</p><p>It was peaceful—nothing like the peace seen in Velaris, filled with music and art and the laughter of children. Quieter.</p><p>Feeling more unabashed and less tense, Nisha began exploring around the house—first only on her floor, observing the paintings and the architecture. Then she ventured down to the first floor, where plenty more faeries worked and strode around.</p><p>None of them bothered her. Nisha could see their eyes widening for a split second when they noticed her, but they would usually quickly pull themselves together and continue about with their business. That wouldoften make her have to hold back a laugh.</p><p>It was strange to her to be so straightforwardly acknowledged—or so bluntly feared. Being raised in Velaris, most of the townsfolk didn't even raise eyebrows as she passed by them. Some would smile, or wave, but that was it. None recoiled in fear, even if she could smell it in a few of them—tourists, mostly.</p><p>It was funny to see the Night Court's reputation still preceded in some places. Or maybe it was just her magic flowing back into her. Everyone always told her it could be feelably overwhelming to those around her at times.</p><p>Walking around the hallways, she stumbled across a huge half-opened wooden door. Before she could sneak a peek, a voice came from inside.</p><p>"Come in," Tamlin said.</p><p>She froze.</p><p>However, seeing no way out of that situation, she came to stand under the threshold, hesitant to fully enter the study room.</p><p>"I don't bite," he smirked, though he seemed to try to be reassuring.</p><p>Nisha stepped inside, but still stood a couple steps away from the door. The room was wide and well lit, filled with solid wood furniture and cushioned armchairs. The shelves stood all the way up to the ceiling, packed with books of all kinds. And there was art all around.</p><p>Tamlin sat behind his work desk, a bunch of papers in front of him.</p><p>"I see you're feeling better," he mumbled.</p><p>"I am," she replied coldly. Then she remembered who she was talking to, and that he was a High Lord and currently held her wellbeing in his hands, and added, "Your healers did a fine job. And the maids were all very welcoming."</p><p>He huffed a quiet laugh at her forced attempt at sympathy, "Well, I'm glad to hear."</p><p>His green eyes were soft, light—kind, almost. They carried an alluring trait she wasn't able to put a finger on. And she might've been tempted to study his expression further if it wasn't for all the crimes she could read across his face every time she looked at him.</p><p>Nisha started to turn on her feet to leave, when he spoke again, on a more serious note, "Do you need to send a letter somewhere?"</p><p>She was slightly startled, but still managed to mutter, "No, I'm fine."</p><p>"Your parents...", Tamlin began, subtly clearing his throat. She looked at him. "Wouldn't they want to know where you are?"</p><p>Noticing his clear discomfort, Nisha was able to relax a bit. "I could talk to them through my mind, but my magic is faint still. But I'm only supposed to be home in a few weeks, so for now I think I'm covered."</p><p>Tamlin raised a brow, but she continued anyway, on a lighter, almost giggly tone, seeming to speak more to herself than to him, "Besides, if I tell them I'm hurt, they will freak out, and if I them tell I'm <em>here</em> they might lose it."</p><p>For a moment, they both chuckled, ignoring the implications behind her words. However, she quickly regathered her composure, swallowing her laughter.</p><p>"Why were you going to the human lands?", he asked out of a sudden.</p><p>Her brows furrowed, trying to find any hidden intention behind his question. She couldn't find any as he looked genuinely curious.</p><p>"I'm going to go help on a mission of my aunt Mor. Help rebuild a village that was wrecked by faeries a couple decades ago."</p><p>"How old are you?", his head tilted to the side, studying her, "You look a little young to be traveling so far on your own. Especially being who you are."</p><p>Nisha straightened subtly into a more defensive pose, "I am sixteen. Yes, I am young. But I'm trained by the greatest warriors of Prythian. And by my parents, whom if you recall, are rather powerful and happen to respect and support my choices."</p><p>Tamlin opened a little smile, "Are you able to shapeshift?"</p><p>Nisha's tension suddenly came back, as she was unsure about where he would stand regarding the magic she'd indirectly inherited from him. She cleared her throat quietly and murmured, "Yes."</p><p>"Interesting," he said, studying her from head to toe at the same time a few of his sentries practically stormed into the room, blabbing about some problems over the southern borders. Nisha took the opportunity to slip out of there.</p><p>“Join me for dinner tonight,” she heard him say from behind her. She didn’t deign to reply.</p><p> </p><p>———</p><p> </p><p>Nisha did deign to attend, though. Her curiosity took the best of her.</p><p>She second guessed herself when she reached the dining hall entrance, but figured it would do her pride no good to back out at the last minute. Especially since she was absolutely certain Tamlin had already sensed her impending presence.</p><p>She walked into the room treading steadily, not giving him so much as a glance as she took the seat right across from his. The table was long, but only their chairs out of the many others were occupied. She wondered if he dined alone every evening in that gigantic room. Despite who he was, she couldn’t help but deem it a sad picture to imagine.</p><p>“Good evening,” he greeted her. She simply nodded back slightly and began putting food on her plate and pouring herself some wine.</p><p>“I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Nisha announced after a couple minutes of quiet eating. Tamlin’s fork produced a startling thump on his plate and she looked up to check what had set him off. But his face was calm—a bit surprised, at most.</p><p>“Are you sure you are well enough to travel?”, he asked, seeming almost... concerned?</p><p>“My wings are much better. And I’m accessing my magic much more easily now, so I think by tomorrow I’ll have more grip on it. If I can’t fly long, I can winnow or contact my dad to come get me.”</p><p>Tamlin nodded, but Nisha could swear he appeared a bit reluctant to let her go.</p><p>“Send him my regards,” he said ironically, an amused smile playing on the corner of his lips.</p><p>“I’ll be sure to do that,” she rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a chuckle as she let out a sigh. “Uncle Lucien misses you, though. I can tell.”</p><p>Unsure what had prompted her to mouth those words, the ones she’d never dare speak to her uncle himself, or anyone else in her family, really, Nisha looked up to the suddenly silent High Lord. Darkness flooded his eyes for a second, but then they softened into slight amusement. “You call him uncle.”</p><p>She laughed quietly, “Well... we're all very... tight and familiar in the Night Court.”</p><p>Right. Tamlin had observed that—remembered Feyre pouring the illyrian warrior Azriel some wine at the High Lord’s meeting regarding the war all those years ago. It didn’t go by unnoticed by the watchful crowd—the High Lady serving her subject.</p><p>“He’s happy,” Nisha added, seeing the hint of nostalgia on Tamlin’s expression. She had no idea why she’d sometimes feel a tug urging her to feel sympathy for him. “My aunt Elain and him have just moved to a nice little apartment by the Sidra and he’s been working with Queen Vassa.”</p><p>His jaw tightened a bit, but he simply nodded, “Good—that’s good to hear.”</p><p>There was probably someone else he’d like to hear about, but that was where Nisha drew the line. Her mother—she wouldn’t dare bring her up. Wouldn’t even allow herself to think about her and all she’d gone through in that house as she dined peaceably with its owner... As she cracked a restrained smile in his direction, unable to maintain the cruel, scathing, Daughter of Night act around him.</p><p> </p><p>———</p><p> </p><p>Nisha raised her hand, ready to knock on the door. Why she bothered, she had no idea. It seemed impolite not to—even though she owed him nothing. Less than nothing, for all the pain he’d inflicted upon her family.</p><p>But—he’d taken care of her. Taken her in when she was vulnerable and weak and unable to lift a single finger to defend herself. He’d killed those who’d meant to harm her. Use her for blackmail or information or leverage over her Court. He’d healed and carried her into his home when he could’ve very well done that to her himself. When she could’ve woken up to wage a war inside his home for all he’d done—and for the audacity to take her in after all of it.</p><p>She’d been delivered to him on a silver platter. And he’d simply picked her up. And asked nothing in return. No bargain, no deal, nothing.</p><p>So she forced her fist to move, knocking once, twice, on the heavy door leading to his study room.</p><p>“Come on in,” Tamlin barely murmured, but she heard anyway.</p><p>As she entered, she noticed him sitting by his desk, going over some files. He didn’t lift his eyes from them to meet hers, seeming concentrated on whatever it was he studied.</p><p>“I’m...”, Nisha began, but Tamlin lifted a finger, interrupting her.</p><p>“Give me a second,” he said.</p><p>She puffed, scowling a bit at his dismissal, but said nothing else. Instead, she turned on her feet, analyzing and observing the book titles on the shelves, the weapons displayed, the art collection.</p><p>There was a particular sword on the wall that she’d recognized—illyrian steel. Before she could start fuming, remembering this particular part of his history and their courts’ rivalry, she noticed a painting on the back wall.</p><p>Those strokes—she’d recognize them anywhere. It was nothing like the ones she would paint nowadays. No. The painting hung there lacked the dexterity and technical skills her mother now possessed—had developed over the years. If Nisha was right, that was probably painted while she was still human.</p><p>It was still beautiful—in a sad way, though. The snow-veiled woods, the cottage sited below the tree branches, the darkness and coldness and melancholy flowing out of the image. Nisha stared and stared, trying to capture the essence of the artist—the <em>person</em> her mother once had been.</p><p>But she felt piercing eyes on her back. As she turned, Tamlin’s face was tense. Like he’d been caught and the words were stuck in his throat. His lips parted slightly, but before he could speak, Nisha asked, “Why did you help me?”</p><p>Tamlin kept his eyes on her a moment longer, unable to look away. But then his head dropped and he rose to his feet to sit down on the edge of his desk.</p><p>“I'm not as bad as people make me out to be, you know,” he said, his words merely a whisper.</p><p>“You sound pretty bad to me,” she replied. There was no judgement in her voice, which sounded simply as if she was stating facts. “From what I've heard.”</p><p>Tamlin shrugged, but there was nothing casual about his movement. “It's true I've done some bad things, but—”</p><p>Understanding flashed across her eyes and she blurted out before he could finish, “You still love her, don’t you?”</p><p>He didn’t answer. And his eyes darted away from her when he finally spoke, “I wouldn't leave you helpless in my land regardless.” She stared at him, studying him until he was forced to look back. “But you’re her child, I had to.”</p><p>The air suddenly became heavy around them, as if their words had weighed upon the atmosphere. The silence was becoming more and more uncomfortable, until Nisha finally took a step away from the painting and toward one work desk. She picked up a couple round, golden paperweights and juggled them in her hands.</p><p>“My brother Nox will meet me halfway so he can fly me back to Velaris if I’m not able to withstand the entire journey.”</p><p>“Good. You really shouldn’t risk winnowing yet,” he said earnestly. His affected tone made her stare back at him. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was worried. “So you won’t be going to the human lands anymore?”</p><p>“I will. I just need to go home for a while to gather my strength back. And also,” she chuckled softly, “to tell my parents about everything that happened before my brother opens his big mouth. And I need to do it in person so they can see I’m fine and I can handle their freakout.”</p><p>Tamlin smiled lightly and Nisha put down the paperweights and straightened up her posture, standing in a more courtly manner.</p><p>“Thank you, High Lord,” she said solemnly, though barely bowing her head, “For your generosity and hospitality. I can’t say I’ve witnessed firsthand the harm you’ve inflicted upon my family, so I can’t absolve you of it. And neither should I, I believe. But I can say, without any doubt, that the kindness you’ve shown me will not be forgotten nor go unnoticed.”</p><p>There was surprise in his eyes. It lasted about a second before he forced himself to regain his composure. The corner of his lips slightly upturned, but his expression had become soft, for once.</p><p>Nisha had barely acknowledged the hint of a tug in her chest when Tamlin stood up, bowing down to her. “Think nothing of it. It’s the least I could do after you so graciously fell from the skies and got yourself stuck tangled up in tree branches,” he joked, a mocking smile playing on his face.</p><p>Nisha sneered playfully and he laughed freely. But as the silence took over the room again, Tamlin subtly cleared his throat, assuming a more serious expression.</p><p>“Fly safe. And be careful.”</p><p>Nisha nodded once and walked out of the study room, feeling Tamlin’s eyes following her with disquieting intensity.</p><p>She could’ve sworn his gaze had accompanied her all the way up to the skies, far from his reach; and then all the way down to a land where his name was never mentioned.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just for curiosity, the name Nisha is of Hindu origin and it means “Depth of Night, when the stars are brightest. The name is a synonym of the beauty of Night.” Also, the name Nox is Latin and it means “dark” or “night.”</p><p>update (02.21.2020): *ACOSF SPOILER ALERT* can i just point out that i might’ve practically predicted feysand’s son name? and i swear to god i considered naming him Nyx before I settled for Nox. i’m in utter shock-maybe i’ve become a seer like elain</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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